First shelf    52
Second shelf26    78
Firstdesk(sloping portion)9
Underdesk:one side11
""other side13        2433
————
Seconddesk21
11
10        2142
————
Third""26
13
10        2349
————
Fourth""15
18
14        3247
————
Fifth""19
11
10        2140
————
Sixth""20
9
10        1939250
————
Within the trellis-work27
355

We will next try to form some idea of the way in which this library was arranged; and first of the two shelves which begin "over the door." A shelf in this position is shewn in Carpaccio's well-known picture of S. Jerome in his study. It is set deskwise against the wall supported on iron brackets. As a large proportion of the fifty-two volumes on our shelf are described as of large size (grant), we shall be justified in assuming that each was 10 in. broad. The total therefore would occupy 520 in. or say 43 ft. at least, not allowing for intervals between them. This shelf extended from the door round the room to the fireplace, by which I suppose we are to understand that it began on the wall which contained the door, and was carried round the corner of the room up to the fireplace.

The second shelf, at the same height as the preceding, contained only twenty-six volumes, fifteen of which are described as small (petit). A space of thirteen feet or even less will therefore be amply sufficient to contain them.

The six desks which stood on the floor were, I imagine, constructed in some such way as that which I have figured above from the Ship of Fools. It is evident that books in velvet bindings and adorned with gilt bosses would be set out where they could be seen, and for such a purpose what could be better than a lectern? The table I have given above shews that there were 110 volumes thus disposed, or an average of say 18 to each desk. A careful analysis of the inventory, where the size of each book is always set down, shews me that there were very few small books in this part of the library, but that they were divided between large (grant) and medium size (moien). If we allow 8 in. for each book, we get an average of 144 in. = 12 ft. for each desk, that is, as the desk was double, the piece of furniture was 6 ft. long. Under the sloping portion it had a shelf on each side. Four such desks stood between the door and the fireplace, and two between the fireplace and the window, which seems to have been opposite the door.

We are not told where the "trellis of iron" was. I suppose these words mean some shelves set against the wall with ironwork in front of them. As the enumeration of the books begins "near the door" the piece of furniture may be placed on the side of the door opposite to the former desks.

The inventory further shews that this library did duty as a museum. It was in fact filled with rare and beautiful objects, and must have presented a singularly rich appearance. In the middle of the hood over the fireplace was a stag's head and horns bearing a crucifix. There was a bust of the Duke of Savoy, in white marble, forming a pendant to one of the Duchess Margaret herself, and in the same material a statuette of a boy extracting a thorn from his foot, probably a copy of the antique in the Ducal Gallery at Florence. There were also twenty oil paintings in the room, some of which were hung round the hood of the fireplace. Besides these works of art there were several pieces of furniture, as, for instance, a large press containing a complete set of armour, a sideboard "à la mode d'Italie," given as a present by the viceroy of Naples; a square table of inlaid work; a smaller table bearing the arms of Burgundy and Spain; three mirrors; a number of objects in rock-crystal; and lastly some feather dresses from India (S. America?), presented by the Emperor.

It is provoking that the inventory, minute as it is, should desert us at the most important point, and give insufficient data for estimating the size of the room. I conjecture that it was about 46 ft. long from the following considerations. In the first place, I allow 2 ft. for the width of each desk. Of these there were four between the door and the fireplace = 8 ft. Secondly, I allow 3 ft. each for the five intervals = 15 ft., or a total of 23 ft. from the door to the fireplace. For the fireplace itself I allow 10 ft. Between the fireplace and the wall containing the window or windows, there were two desks and three intervals = 13 ft. I pointed out above that 43 ft. at least might be allowed for the shelf extending from the door to the fireplace. Of this I have absorbed 23 ft., leaving 20 ft. for the distance from the door to the corner of the room. As we are not told anything about the position of the door my estimate of the size of the room cannot be carried further.

A similar arrangement obtained in the library of Anne de France, daughter of Louis XI., or as she is usually called Anne de Beaujeu[531]. Her catalogue made 19 September, 1523, records 314 titles, which I need hardly say represent a far larger number of books. They were arranged like those of the Duchess Margaret, on eleven desks (poulpitres). These were set round a room, with the exception of two which were placed in the middle of it. It is interesting to note respecting one of these, that it had a cupboard at the end, for the contents are entered as follows: au bout dudit poulpitre sont enclos les livres qui s'ensuivent, and sixteen volumes are enumerated. There was also a shelf set against the wall, described as le plus hault poulpitre le long de la dite muraille, which contained fifty-five volumes. This desk was probably high up, like the one in the library of the Duchess Margaret. The books upon it are noted as being all covered with red velvet, and ornamented with clasps, bosses, and corner-pieces of metal. There were also in this library an astrolabe, and a sphere with the signs of the Zodiac.

Fig. 139. S. John writing his Gospel. From a MS. Hours in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Fig. 139. S. John writing his Gospel. From a MS. Hours in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge.

A desk, similar in general character to that figured in the Ship of Fools, but of a curiously modern type, occurs in an Hours in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, executed about 1445 for Isabel, Duchess of Brittany. The picture (fig. 139) represents S. John writing his Gospel.

A modification of this form of desk was common in Italy. It is often used by painters of the fifteenth century in pictures of the Annunciation, where it does duty as a prie-dieu. The example I have selected (fig. 140) is from a painting by Benedetto Bonfigli, in the church of S. Peter at Perugia. It represents S. Jerome writing. A small circular revolving desk, at the left-hand corner of the larger desk, holds the work he is copying or referring to. On the desk near the inkstand lies the pointed stylus mentioned above. Below the cupboard containing books is a drawer. Projecting from the top of the revolving desk, there is a vertical rod of iron with a long horizontal arm. This is no doubt intended to carry a lantern. I shall shortly give an example of one in such a position.

Fig. 141. Circular book-desk. From a MS. of Fais et Gestes du Roi Alexandre, in the British Museum. Fig. 141. Circular book-desk. From a MS. of Fais et Gestes du Roi Alexandre, in the British Museum.

Fig. 140. S. Jerome writing. From an oil painting by Benedetto Bonfigli, in the Church of S. Peter at Perugia. Fig. 140. S. Jerome writing. From an oil painting by Benedetto Bonfigli, in the Church of S. Peter at Perugia.

I now return to the wheel-desk, of which I have already figured one specimen (fig. 135). A piece of furniture consisting of one or more tables which could be raised or depressed by means of a central screw, was very generally used by scholars in the Middle Ages. I shall present a few of the most common forms.

Fig. 142. S. Luke writing his Gospel. From the Dunois Horæ, a MS. in the possession of H. Y. Thompson, Esq. Fig. 142. S. Luke writing his Gospel. From the Dunois Horæ, a MS. in the possession of H. Y. Thompson, Esq.

My first specimen is from a manuscript in the British Museum, written and illuminated in England in the middle of the fifteenth century. It is called Fais et Gestes du Roi Alexandre[532]. The picture (fig. 141) represents Alexander as a little child, standing in front of his tutor, who is seated in one of the chairs I described above. On the learned man's right is his book-desk. A circular table with a rim round it to prevent the books falling off, is supported on a central pedestal, which contains the screw. The top of the said screw is concealed by the little Gothic turret in the centre of the table. This turret also supports the book which the reader has in use.

Fig. 143. A lady seated in her chair reading. From a MS. written in France, early in the fifteenth century. Fig. 143. A lady seated in her chair reading. From a MS. written in France, early in the fifteenth century.

My next example is from a miniature in a volume of Hours known as the Dunois Horæ, also written in the middle of the fifteenth century. It has been slightly enlarged in order to bring out the details more clearly. The subject is S. Luke writing his Gospel, but the background represents a scholar's room. There is a bookcase of a very modern type, a table with two folio volumes lying upon it, and in the centre a hexagonal book-desk, with a little Gothic turret as in the last example. Round the screw under the table are four cylindrical supports, the use of which I fail to understand, but they occur frequently on desks of this type. The whole piece of furniture rests on a heavy cylindrical base, and that again on a square platform.

I now pass to a variety of the screw-desk, which has a small book-rest above the table. The whole structure rests upon a prolongation of the solid platform on which the reader's chair is placed, so that it is really exactly in front of the reader. My illustration (fig. 143) is from "The booke of the noble ladyes in frensh," a work by Boccacio; it was written in France early in the fifteenth century[533].

Fig. 144. Screw-desk. From a fifteenth century MS. in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, Paris. Fig. 144. Screw-desk. From a fifteenth century MS. in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, Paris.

Fig. 145. Hexagonal desk, with central spike, probably for a candle. From a French MS. of Le Miroir Historial. Fig. 145. Hexagonal desk, with central spike, probably for a candle. From a French MS. of Le Miroir Historial.

These double desks are exceedingly common, and I might fill a large number of pages with figures and descriptions of the variety which the ingenuity of the cabinet-makers of the fifteenth century managed to impart to combinations of a screw and two or more tables. I will content myself with one more example (fig. 144) which shews the screw exceedingly well, and the two tables above it. The uppermost of these serves as a ledge to rest the books on, as does also the hexagonal block above it which conceals the top of the screw[534].

We meet occasionally with a solid desk, by which I mean one the level of which cannot be altered. In the example here given (fig. 145) from a French MS. of Le Miroir Historial, there is a central spike which I suspect to have been intended to carry a candle[535].

In some examples of these book-desks the pedestal is utilized as a book-cupboard (fig. 146). The picture which I have selected as shewing a desk of this peculiarity is singularly beautiful, and finished in the highest style of art available at the end of the fifteenth century in France. It forms half of the frontispiece to a fine manuscript of Boccacio's Livre des cas des malheureux nobles hommes et femmes[536]. The central figure is apparently lecturing on that moving theme, for in front of him, in the other half of the picture, is a crowd of men exhibiting their interest by the violence of their gestures. On his left is the desk I mentioned; it stands on an unusually firm base, and one side of the vertical portion is pierced by an arch, so as to make the central cavity available for putting books in. From the centre of the table rises a tall spike, apparently of iron, to which is attached a horizontal arm, bearing a lighted lantern. On the table, in addition to three books, is an inkstand and pen-case. In front of the lecturer is a carved chest, probably one of those book-coffers which I have already mentioned. The chair and canopy are richly carved, and the back of the seat is partially covered by a piece of tapestry. Further, the lecturer is allowed the unusual luxury of a cushion.

I will next deal with the appliances for reading and writing directly connected with the chairs in which scholars sat, and I will begin with the desk.

Fig. 146. A lecturer addressing an audience. From a MS. of Livre des cas des malheureux nobles hommes et femmes, written in France at end of fifteenth century. Fig. 146. A lecturer addressing an audience. From a MS. of Livre des cas des malheureux nobles hommes et femmes, written in France at end of fifteenth century.

Fig. 148. The author of The Chronicles of Hainault in his study (1446). Fig. 148. The author of The Chronicles of Hainault in his study (1446).

Fig. 150. A writer with his desk and table. From a MS. of Le Livre des Propriétés des Choses in the British Museum. Fig. 150. A writer with his desk and table. From a MS. of Le Livre des Propriétés des Choses in the British Museum.

The simplest form of desk is a plain board, set at a suitable angle by means of a chain or cord extending from one of its corners to the back of the chair, while the opposite corner rests against a peg driven into the arm of the chair. This arrangement, variously modified, occurs very frequently; sometimes there are two pegs and two chains, but what I may term the normal form is shewn in my illustration (fig. 147)[537]. It is difficult to understand how the desk was kept steady.

Fig. 147. S. Mark writing his Gospel. From a MS. Hours written in France in the fifteenth century. Fig. 147. S. Mark writing his Gospel. From a MS. Hours written in France in the fifteenth century.

The author whose study I shall figure next (fig. 148) is engaged in writing the Chronicles of Hainault[538]. His desk rests securely on two irons fastened to the arms of his chair. On his right is a plain lectern with an open volume on each side of it, and behind are two or more shelves set against the wall with books lying on their sides. On his left is a chest, presumably a book-chest, with books lying on its closed lid. One of these is open. He has prudently placed his chair near the window in such a position that the light falls upon his work from the left. It should be noted that the upper part of the window only is glazed, the lower part being closed by shutters. When these are thrown back, the lights are seen to be filled to half their height with a trellis, such as was ordered for the French king's library.

My third example of a chair fitted with a desk (fig. 149) is taken from Les Miracles de Notre Dame[539], a manuscript which belonged to Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, and was written for him at the Hague in 1456. The illustration represents S. Jerome seated in his study. From arm to arm of the chair extends a desk of a very firm and solid construction. The ends of this desk apparently drop into the heads of the small columns with which the arms of the chair terminate. The saint has in his left hand a pointed stylus, and in his right a pen, which he is holding up to the light. On the desk beside the manuscript lies an ink-horn. To the right of the saint's chair is a hexagonal table with a high ledge round it. There is no evidence that this table has a screw; but the small subsidiary desk above it seems to be provided with one. It will be observed that the support of this desk is not directly over that of the table beneath it. The desk is provided with two slits—an ingenious contrivance for dealing with a roll. On the table, besides an open book, are a pair of spectacles, four pens, a small box which may contain French chalk for pouncing, and what looks like a piece of sponge.

Fig. 149. S. Jerome in his study. From Les Miracle de Nostre Dame, written at the Hague in 1456. Fig. 149. S. Jerome in his study. From Les Miracle de Nostre Dame, written at the Hague in 1456.

I now figure two different sets of library appliances. The first (fig. 150) is from a manuscript of the Livre des Propriétés des Choses, in the British Museum, written in the fifteenth century[540]. The writer is seated in one of those low chairs which occur very frequently in miniatures, and look as if they were cut out of a single block of wood. His desk, which is quite independent of the chair, is of the simplest design, consisting of a piece of wood supported at an angle on two carved uprights. On his left stands a very elegant piece of furniture, a table with a desk at a considerable height above it—so high, in fact, that it could only be used standing. This upper desk is fitted with a little door as though it served as a receptacle for small objects.

Fig. 151. S. Luke writing his Gospel. MSS. Douce, Bodl. Lib. Oxf., No. 381. Fig. 151. S. Luke writing his Gospel. MSS. Douce, Bodl. Lib. Oxf., No. 381.

The second example (fig. 151) shews S. Luke sitting on a bench writing at a table[541]. The top, which is very massive, rests on four legs, morticed into a frame. In front of this table is a desk of peculiar form; the lower part resembles a reversed cone, and the upper part a second cone of smaller diameter, so as to leave space enough between the two bases for a ledge to rest books on. Round the base of the desk three quaint lions do duty as feet. These lions occur again beneath the frame of the picture, and may be connected with a former possessor of the manuscript. The pedestal of the desk is a twisted column, which, like the base, and indeed the whole structure, looks as though it were made of brass.

Fig. 152. S. Augustine at his desk. From a painting by Fra Filippo Lippi at Florence. Fig. 152. S. Augustine at his desk. From a painting by Fra Filippo Lippi at Florence.

Fig. 153. S. Jerome reading. From an oil painting by Catena, in the National Gallery, London. Fig. 153. S. Jerome reading. From an oil painting by Catena, in the National Gallery, London.

Fig. 154. A writer at work. From a French translation of Valerius Maximus, written and illuminated in Flanders in 1479, for King Edward IV. Fig. 154. A writer at work. From a French translation of Valerius Maximus, written and illuminated in Flanders in 1479, for King Edward IV.

I now pass to a totally different way of fitting up a study, which seems to have been common in Italy, to judge by the number of paintings in which it occurs. It consists of a massive desk of wood, one part of which is set at right angles to the other, and is connected in various ways with shelves, drawers, pigeon-holes, and other contrivances for holding books and papers. In the example I here figure (fig. 152), from a painting by Fra Filippo Lippi (1412-1469) representing S. Augustine's vision of the Trinity, there are two small recesses above the desk on the saint's right, both containing books, and behind the shorter portion of the desk, three shelves also with books on them. Attached to the end of the desk is a small tray, probably to contain pens.

A similar desk occurs in the beautiful picture by Catena in the National Gallery[542], representing S. Jerome reading, of which I give a reproduction on a reduced scale (fig. 153). This picture also contains an excellent example of a cupboard in the thickness of the wall, a contrivance for taking care of books as common in the Middle Ages as it had been in Roman times[543].

Cupboards in the thickness of the wall are also to be seen in the frontispiece (fig. 154) to a copy of a French translation of Valerius Maximus[544], written in Flanders in 1479 for King Edward IV. The writer—probably intended for the author or the translator of the book—is seated at a desk, consisting of a plank set at an angle and capable of being turned aside by means of a central bracket, like that used by the Carmelite (fig. 136). Observe the two weights hanging over the edge of the desk and the ends of the two horns, intended to hold ink, projecting through it. The window, as in the picture representing the author of the Chronicles of Hainault at work, is glazed in the upper part only, while in the lower are two framed trellises of wire-work. Behind the writer are two cupboards in the thickness of the wall. One of these is open, and shews books lying on their sides, upon which are some pomegranates. I cannot suggest any reason for the introduction of these fruits, except that from their colour they make a pleasing variety; but I ought to mention that they occur very frequently in miniatures representing a writer at work. On the other side of the window is a small hanging cupboard. Here again a fruit is introduced on the lowest shelf. Round the room is a settle, raised above the floor on blocks at intervals. The seat is probably a chest, as in the settles described above in the Vatican Library.

The last picture (fig. 155) in this series of illustrations represents what I like to call a scholar's room, at the beginning of the fifteenth century[545]. The owner of the apartment is busily writing at a desk supported on a trestle-table. He holds a stylus in his left hand, and a pen in his right. The ink-horn he is using is inserted into the desk. Above it are holes for two others, in case he should require ink of different colours. Above the inkstand is a pen stuck in a hole, with vacant holes beside it. The page on the desk is kept flat by a weight. Above this desk is a second desk, of nearly equal size, on which lies an open book, kept open by a large weight, extending over two-thirds of the open pages. Behind the writer's chair is his book-chest. The background represents a well-appointed chamber. The floor is paved with encaustic tiles; a bright fire is burning on the hearth; the window, on the same plan as that described in the last picture, is open; a comfortable—not to say luxurious—bed invites repose. The walls are unplastered, but there is a hanging under the window and over the head of the bed.

With this simple room, containing a scholar's necessaries and no more, I will contrast the study of the Duke of Urbino.

This beautiful room, which still exists as the Duke left it, is on an upper floor of the castle, commanding from its balcony, which faces the south, an extensive view of the approach to the Castle, the city, and the country beyond, backed by the Apennines. It is of small size, measuring only 11 ft. 6 in. by 13 ft. 4 in., and is somewhat irregular in shape. It is entered by a door from the Duke's private apartment. The floor is paved with rough tiles set in patterns. The walls are panelled to a height of about eight feet. The bare space between the top of the panel-work and the ceiling was probably hung with tapestry. The ceiling is a beautiful specimen of the most elaborate plaster-work, disposed in octagonal panels. The decoration of the panel-work begins with a representation of a bench, on which various objects are lying executed in intarsia work. Above this bench is a row of small panels, above which again is a row of large panels, each containing a subject in the finest intarsia, as for example a portrait of Duke Frederick, figures of Faith, Hope, and other virtues, a pile of books, musical instruments, armour, a parrot in a cage, etc. In the cornice above these is the word FEDERICO, and the date 1476.

Fig. 155. A scholar's room in the fifteenth century. From a MS. in the Royal Library at Brussels. Fig. 155. A scholar's room in the fifteenth century. From a MS. in the Royal Library at Brussels.

Opposite the window there is a small cupboard, and on the opposite side of the projection containing it there are a few shelves. These are the only receptacles for books in the room. From its small size it could have contained but little furniture, and was probably intended for the purpose traditionally ascribed to it, namely as a place of retirement for the Duke when he wished to be alone.

Another specimen of a library so arranged as to provide a peaceful retreat is afforded a century later by that of Montaigne, of which he has fortunately left a minute description.

[My library is] in the third story of a Tower, of which the Ground-room is my Chappel, the second story an Apartment with a withdrawing Room and Closet, where I often lie to be more retired. Above it is a great Wardrobe, which formerly was the most useless part of the House. I there pass away both the most of the Days of my Life, and most of the Hours of those Days. In the Night I am never there. There is within it a Cabinet handsome and neat enough, with a Fire-place very commodiously contriv'd, and Light very finely fitted. And was I not more afraid of the Trouble than the Expence, the Trouble that frights me from all Business, I could very easily adjoyn on either side, and on the same Floor, a Gallery of an hundred paces long, and twelve broad, having found Walls already rais'd for some other Design, to the requisite height. Every place of retirement requires a Walk. My Thoughts sleep if I sit still; my Fancy does not go by itself, as when my Legs move it: and all those who study without a Book are in the same Condition.

The figure of my Study is round, and has no more flat Wall than what is taken up by my Table, and my Chairs; so that the remaining parts of the Circle present me a view of all my books at once, set up upon five degrees of Shelves round about me. It has three noble and free Prospects, and is sixteen paces[546] Diameter. I am not so continually there in Winter; for my House is built upon an Eminence, as its Name imports, and no part of it is so much expos'd to the Wind and Weather as that, which pleases me the better, for being of a painful access, and a little remote, as well upon the account of Exercise, as being also there more retir'd from the Crowd. 'Tis there that I am in my Kingdom, as we say, and there I endeavour to make myself an absolute Monarch, and so sequester this one Corner from all Society both Conjugal, Filial, and Civil[547].

The notices of libraries which I have collected have brought me to the end of the sixteenth century, by which time most of the appliances in use in the Middle Ages had been given up. I hope that I have not exhausted the patience of my readers by presenting too long a series of illustrations extracted from manuscripts. I love, as I look at them, to picture to myself the medieval man of letters, laboriously penning voluminous treatises in the writing room of a monastery, or in his own study, with his scanty collection of books within his reach, on shelves, or in a chest, or lying on a table. We sometimes call the ages dark in which he lived, but the mechanical ingenuity displayed in the devices by which his studies were assisted might put to shame the cabinet-makers of our own day.

Fig. 156.Dean Boys in his Library, 1622. Fig. 156.Dean Boys in his Library, 1622.

As the fashion of collecting books, and of having them bound at a lavish expense, increased, it was obvious that they must be laid out so as to be seen and consulted without the danger of spoiling their costly covers. Hence the development of the lectern-system in private houses, and the arrangement of a room such as the Duchess Margaret possessed at Malines. Gradually, however, as books multiplied, and came into the possession of persons who could not afford costly bindings, lecterns were abandoned, and books were ranged on shelves against the wall, as in the public libraries which I described in the last chapter.

There is still in existence, on an upper floor in the Palazzo Barberini at Rome, a library of this description, which has probably not been altered in any way since it was fitted up by Cardinal Francesco Barberini about 1630. The room is 105 ft. long by 28 ft. broad, and is admirably lighted by two windows in the south wall, and seven in the gallery. The shelves are set round three sides of the room at a short distance from the wall, so as to leave space for a gallery and the stairs to it. The cases are divided into compartments by fluted Ionic columns 5 ft. high. These rest upon a flat shelf 14 in. wide, beneath which are drawers for papers and a row of folios. This part of the structure is 3 ft. high from the floor to the base of the columns. Above the columns is a cornice, part of which is utilized for books; and above this again is the gallery, where the arrangement of the shelves is a repetition of what I have described in the lower part of the room. Dwarf cases in a plainer style and of later date are set along the sides and ends of the room. Upon these are desks for the catalogue, a pair of globes, some astronomical instruments, and some sepulchral urns found at Præneste. The older woodwork in this library has never been painted or varnished, and the whole aspect of the room is singularly old-world and delightful.

Another instance is afforded by the sketch of the library of John Boys, Dean of Canterbury, who died in 1625. It occurs on the title-page of his works dated 1622, and I may add on his tomb in Canterbury Cathedral also. He clung to ancient fashions so far as to set his books with their fore-edge outwards, but in other respects his book-shelves are of a modern type.

I have now reached the limit which I imposed upon myself when I began this essay. But before I conclude let me say a few last words. I wish to point out that collectors and builders in the Middle Ages did not guard their manuscripts with jealous care merely because they had paid a high price to have them written; they recognised what I may call the personal element in them; they invested them with the senses and the feelings of human beings; and bestowed them like guests whom they delighted to honour. No one who reads the Philobiblon can fail to see that every page of it is pervaded by this sentiment; and this I think explains the elaborate precautions against theft; the equally elaborate care taken to arrange a library in so orderly a fashion that each book might be accessible with the least difficulty and the least delay; and the exuberant gratitude with which the arrival of a new book was welcomed.

In my present work I have looked at libraries from the technical side exclusively. It would have been useless to try to combine fire and water, sentiment and fact. But let me remind my readers that we are not so far removed from the medieval standpoint as some of us perhaps would wish. When we enter the library of Queens' College, or the older part of the University Library, at Cambridge, where there has been continuity from the fifteenth century to the present day, are we not moved by feelings such as I have tried to indicate, such in fact as moved John Leland when he saw the library at Glastonbury for the first time?

Moreover, there is another sentiment closely allied to this by which members of a College or a University are more deeply moved than others—I mean the sentiment of association. The most prosaic among them cannot fail to remember that the very floors were trodden by the feet of the great scholars of the past; that Erasmus may have sat at that window on that bench, and read the very book which we are ourselves about to borrow.

But in these collections the present is not forgotten; the authors of to-day are taking their places beside the authors of the past, and are being treated with the same care. On all sides we see progress: the lecterns and the stalls are still in use and keep green the memory of old fashions; while near them the plain shelving of the twentieth century bears witness to the ever-present need for more space to hold the invading hordes of books that represent the literature of to-day. On the one hand, we see the past; on the other, the present; and both are animated by full, vigorous life.

FOOTNOTES:

[521] MSS. Mus. Brit., MSS. Cotton, Claudius E. 4, part 1. fol. 124. I have to thank my friend, Mr Hubert Hall, of the Public Record Office, for drawing my attention to this illustration.

[522] Gesta Abbatum, ed. Rolls series, i. p. 184. I owe this reference and its translation to the Reverend F. A. Gasquet, Medieval Monastic Libraries, p. 89, in Downside Review, 1891, Vol. x. No. 2.

[523] Henri Havard, Dict. de l' Ameublement, s. v. Librairie. The first chest is described in the following words: "Livres estans en la grant chambre dudit Seigneur, en ung escrin assiz sur deux crampons, lequel est à la fenestre emprès la cheminée de ladite chambre, et est a deux couvescles, en l'une des parties dequel coffre estoient les parties qui s'ensuivent." See also J. Labarle: Inventaire du Mobilier de Charles V. 4to. Paris, 1879, p. 336.

[524] Franklin, Anc. Bibl. de Paris, Vol. ii. p. 112. A copy of this account is in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, No. 6362. This I have collated with M. Franklin's text. The most important passage is the following: A Jacques du Parvis et Jean Grosbois, huchiers, pour leur peine d'avoir dessemblé tous les bancs et deux roes qui estoient en la librairie du Roy au palais, et iceux faict venir audit Louvre, avec les lettrins et icelles roes estrécies chacune d'un pied tout autour; et tout rassemblé et pendu les lettrins es deux derraines estages de la tour, devers la Fauconnerie, pour mettre les livres du Roy; et lambroissié de bort d'Illande le premier d'iceux deux estages tout autour par dedans, au pris de L. francs d'or, par marché faict à eux par ledit maistre Jacques, XIVe jour de mars 1367.

[525] A. Berty, Topographie historique du vieux Paris, 4to. Paris, 1866, Vol. i. pp. 143-146. He considers that the "bort d'Illande" was Dutch oak, 480 pieces of which had been given to the king by the officer called Sénéchal of Hainault.

[526] MSS. Mus. Brit. 14 E. V.

[527] MSS. Mus. Brit. 14 E. 1. This miniature has been reproduced by Father Gasquet in the paper quoted above.

[528] MSS. Mus. Brit., MSS. Harl. 4375, f. 151 b.

[529] The Philobiblon of Richard de Bury: ed. E. C. Thomas, London, 1888.

[530] Printed in Jahrbuch der Kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des Allerhöchsten Kaiserhauses, Band iii. 4to. Wien, 1885.

[531] Lerou de Lincey, Mélanges de la Société des Bibliophiles, 1850, p. 231.

[532] MSS. Mus. Brit. 15 E. vi.

[533] MS. Mus. Brit. 20 C. v.

[534] Paris, Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, MS. 5193, fol. 311. Boccacio: Cas des malheureux nobles hommes et femmes.

[535] Paris, Bibl. Nat., MSS. Français, 50, Le Miroir Historial, by Vincent de Beauvais, fol. 340. Probably written in cent. xv.

[536] MSS. Mus. Brit. Add. 35321. MSS. Waddesdon, No. 12. Bequeathed by Baron Ferdinand Rothschild.

[537] MSS. Bodl. Lib. Oxf., MSS. Rawl. Liturg. e. 24, fol. 17 b.

[538] MSS. Bibliothèque Royale de Bruxelles, No. 9242. Chroniques de Hainaut, Pt. i. fol. 2, 1446.

[539] MSS. Bibl. Nat. Paris, MSS. Fran. 9198. See Miracles de Nostre Dame, by J. Mielot, Roxburghe Club, 1885; with introduction by G. F. Warner, M.A.

[540] MSS. Cotton, Augustus, vi. fol. 213 b. There is a beautiful example of a table and desk on this plan in a MS. of La Cité des Dames, from the old Royal Library of France in the Bibl. Nat., MSS. Fran. 1177.

[541] MSS. Bodl. Lib. Oxf., MSS. Douce, No. 381, fol. 159. A second example occurs in the same MS., fol. 160.

[542] I have to thank my friend Sidney Colvin, M.A., for drawing my attention to this picture.

[543] See above, pp. 37, 38.

[544] MSS. Mus. Brit. 18 E. iv.

[545] Le Débat de l'honneur entre trois Princes chevalereux. Bibil. Roy. Bruxelles, No. 9278, fol. 10. The MS. is from the library of the Dukes of Burgundy, and may be dated in the second third of the fifteenth century.

[546] The original words are 'seize pas de vuide.' The substantive 'pas' must I think mean a foot, the length a foot makes when set upon the ground. The word pace, the length of which is 2 ft. 6 in. or 3 ft., is inapplicable here.

[547] Essays of Michael Seigneur de Montaigne. Made English by Ch. Cotton, Vol. iii. pp. 53, 54. 8vo. London, 1741. I have to thank my friend Mr A. F. Sieveking for this reference.

INDEX.